


There's Our Future Behind It

by AAluminium



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAluminium/pseuds/AAluminium
Summary: Caleb nodded in agreement, already lost in thought. How did it turn out this way? He was standing here with his best friend, casually maintaining a confabulation about people they were going to kill by cannons, guns, bayonets and blasts. He barely speculated on the subjects like that, but this time the whaler suddenly caught himself thinking there was no way out.





	There's Our Future Behind It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@vdrslya](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40vdrslya).



“Just don’t tell me I’ve been explaining it to myself.”

“As you wish, Tall-boy. I won’t.”

Brewster gifted his friend, Major Benjamin Tallmadge, with a broad silly smile. His calloused fingers were now fiddling with a knickknack he had grabbed from a shelf – his thoughts indeed wandered around something else – some matter at hand Ben had mentioned in passing – but at the same time he was still able to contrive and add the details he missed. Strategy was his forte; Caleb seemed to succeed in what Tallmadge spent hours on. Brewster didn’t need either an outlined plan, or a site plan as he used to explore the surroundings all by himself. He used to lay an ambush on the enemy using a sidelong hill near the river simultaneously demonstrating the prowess of an experienced soldier. Furthermore, he was good with his hatchet – but this honed skill Major Tallmadge sometimes tended to disregard. 

“Stop staring at me as if I stole your money after a night with a wench,” Caleb drawled swiveling his eyes to the bagatelle in the scratched fingers. “I might accidentally think you’re in love with me, Benny-boy. I’d be very much flattered but you’d better taste a woman before you try a guy!.. Let me not be the lucky man though.”

“What a wise thing to say,” it was obvious Tallmadge got embarrassed by such a remark about his monastic private life, but the young man decided to ignore the comment hoping that Caleb would calm down. “But Caleb,” Major’s eyes slid across the avuncular bearded face, “did you get what I was talking about? The great significance of the operation, its upcoming impact on the…” 

“Yup, yup, Major,” Brewster interrupted the stream of rebuke that was about to fall upon his head. “I got it. I just can’t understand why the heck we aren’t shooting them down at the river.”

“Because they have supplies, that’s why. If we use our cannons while the redcoats are on board, everything will drown. We will lose the chance to snatch the rations.”

Not eager to discuss the wide range of problems the army had to face during the war, Tallmadge briefly mentioned the lack of supplies – and dwelled on some other things Washington dealt with. Although a cut and thrust in Congress wasn’t going to abate, Ben could easily imagine it had nothing to do with the circumstance in the country at the moment. Delegates jettisoned letters from the camp and used their agile minds only to contrive a new tax to levy on the emaciated nation. Working on Virginia’s court system, the sagacious congressmen operated in cahoots although normally they were at loggerhead with each other. They were incredibly unanimous when they needed a better way to ignore Washington’s orders and demands. Considering the fact they barely reached a compromise even talking about the comeuppance that was to befall the British for oppression and decimation, this was a worth mentioning achievement. The Congress was the first to yell about the knell heard in the distance – but the last to work out the kinks whether it was about a financial project, or the army. 

“True. Wet gunpowder is as helpful as a broken gun,” Brewster uttered, putting the bric-a-brac in its place. “You can hardly kill a foe with a ball of gunpowder… while he sure can hole your head with a bayonet.”

Tallmadge nodded absent-mindedly – and glared at the unfolded map. The Congress didn’t even believe they were able to vanquish. Politicians never declared it openly, yet they undoubtedly would lick King George’s boots in case of defeat. Washington, the man, whose valor inspired people, was seen as an extravagant warrior putting effort into the wrong hobby: his endevors to fight destitution and hunger seemed silly and futile to the congressmen. Look, he was trying to challenge the mightiest empire wielding power all over the world! Strong, inflexible, General Washington revealing his deflating sangfroid, led the way to independence – and wasted time on the homesick Congress refusing to search for allies. His talents were evident – but he was all alone, and even the greatest needed confederates. That was what they could not quite fathom. 

“This is not my plan, actually,” Tallmadge said after a long pause. “General Rochambeau and Marquis de Lafayette offered it.” 

“General who and Marquis who? Those tall messeurs never leaving Washington’s tent?”

“Correct. Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton wrote to them.”  
“So the French are taking over?”

“To some extent. They suggest cutting the British off at sea.” 

Caleb nodded in agreement, already lost in thought. How did it turn out this way? He was standing here with his best friend, casually maintaining a confabulation about people they were going to kill by cannons, guns, bayonets and blasts. He barely speculated on the subjects like that, but this time the whaler suddenly caught himself thinking there was no way out. They were not to go back in time, and the childhood dreams they were so determined to pursue… went belly up. Brewster didn’t miss the younger years dearly, moreover, he was quite contented with his life, but… how did it change so quickly? 

Silence fell upon the tent. Tallmadge marked something on the map, wrote something down in his journal. 

“You know, Benny-boy, I never thought to see you such a burly man-at-arms. I mean, we’re at war. You, a Yalie, and Abe, and even our Annie. I mean… she used to treat your grazed knees all the time! Remember, how loudly you howled when you fell off a tree? I thought it was fatal. But then you squalled so loudly that we sighed with relief: the dead don’t shout at the top of their lungs. 

“I didn’t shout at all,” Ben got confused, “My Dad would give me a good scolding, I was wearing my new pants. Every child is afraid of the parents every once in a while.”

“Well, Abe never was and never is,” Caleb japed amiably, “So as Annie. She came home scratched all over.” 

“While you were somewhere else!.. And then popped out of nowhere having some ‘intelligence of topmost significance’! Where did you take it, finagled out of a merchant’s son?”

“Really, ‘intelligence of topmost importance’, you say?” Caleb let out a laugh, “Somebody had to brighten your smug prolixity! You’re grinding at English days on end, Woodhull’s having law in the head, cabbage on the head, dreams about his own farm in the eyes, and Annie can do nothing about you both. While one is expecting to have his elbow bandaged, the other…” 

Suddenly, Brewster fell silent. Tallmadge was about to mention his elbows had always been in great condition, but didn’t say anything himself realizing that his friend touched upon something bigger than just a childhood game. Abe got married, Anna did the same; but their mutual attraction did not subside a tad – and was clear to others. Devoted to their spouses, both Anna and Abe eluded greetings, even the slightest interaction that could awaken a maelstrom of emotion they strove to mortify. People did see the storm of those feelings; neither Mary nor Selah was blind dolls, and even though they possessed enough power to ignore and defy the obvious, they could barely miss out the glances, voices and smallest changes in the faces of those they loved. Jealous, Selah tried to prohibit his wife to meet his rival – and Mary suffered quietly; Selah nearly exploded in his room, accusing Abe of all the sins committed in the world – and Mary patiently waited, although knowing her husband was wandering around the tavern. Selah was direct – and Mary fought on her own, never letting the people of Setauket pry into her private life. Whatever they saw was not grounded, but how can you judge people for their desire to watch and to gossip?.. She took it as a duty of a home goddess she was not to shirk: the notion of the family she had in mind demanded to be indemnified from public conviction of any kind. Let them run their mouths, let them drive a wedge between the couple – she will never give him an opportunity to diminish the peace she has been creating for ages. She didn’t interfere – but didn’t plan to turn tail either. 

It didn’t work that way with Selah. He was put against Abe by those who craved for a show. Shouting that they ought to topple tyrants as quickly as possible, the same people morphed into the declared tyrants, who doused the lights and pretended to be blind – just to embellish the reality that never took place. The boisterous ire transforming into a perverted desire to faze and tantalize was another manifestation of war in which the world of Setauket had been beguiled into. And Selah still strove to resist – to resist waspish remarks that aimed to sully his family reputation. His fury was always genuine and unadulterated – and never addressed to Anna. 

Come to think of it, they used to call her Annie!.. That feisty girl who easily parried both jocular and acerbic comments! She was constantly the winner if Caleb made an attempt to play a trick on her and Abe; moreover, she managed to persuade Tallmadge not to do the same using the right tone of the voice – she mildly threatened him with a punch on the long nose and an embarrassing situation she would not help him with. 

The war derailed their plans. 

The war exposed the most sensitive places people tended to hide.

The war impelled them to sacrifice themselves – their hopes and dreams. 

“It can’t be a mistake, can it?” Ben whispered, swiveling his sapphire eyes to his friend. “Everything. Those casualties, our past, dreams… How can we go on knowing there is… nothing behind it?” 

“There’s our future behind it,” Brewster smiled again and canted his head to the side. Now he was perusing the plan the French had offered. “And write this down, Benny-boy. You have a frightening tendency to fall into philosophy. Man up, Yalie, and let’s show the French how we can fight!”


End file.
